It's A Hard Life
by ilovetwizzlers
Summary: Bulma's life has been anything but easy, and now she ends up in juvie where she happens to meet a reckless kid named Vegeta.
1. Chapter 1

Bulma cringed and gripped the leather chair she leaned on as she felt the needle dig in to her back. She has waited so long for this, she wasn't gonna pussy out because of a little pain. She hated the reasons behind getting this done, but she wanted to remember everything that had happened one way or another. If it meant having it permanently sketched into her skin then so be it. They were nowhere near happy memories, but they were all she had. She wanted a reminder that she survived, and what didn't kill her just made her stronger.

It didn't take much of a genius to steal her mother's car, and it didn't take long to find the nearest tattoo parlor.

Every few minutes she glared up at the clock on the far side of the wall, daring it to go any slower. She figured out what she wanted and where on the drive over here. What she didn't realize was how long it was actually going to take to have it accomplished. _Oh well, it'll all be worth it._

Close to 18 hours later…

Frankie, a beast of a man covered head-to-toe in ink, chuckled when he heard light snoring. He had to admit that he was very surprised when he first laid eyes on the lil blue-haired beauty as soon as she threw open the door to his parlor. The girl couldn't have been older than 14, and she looked like she had been through Hell and back. What he didn't know was the enormous attitude this lil pistol had. When she first told him what she wanted, he thought she was joking and laughed in her face. Boy, was that a mistake. Shaking his head to rid his thoughts, he went back to concentrating on the last details of one of the newly adorned angel wings that nearly covered Bulma's entire back.

"Alright, sweetheart. All done." Getting up, Frankie began to clean and put his equipment away. He glanced over his shoulder, and shook his head before reaching over and gently shook Bulma's shoulder urging her to wake.

"Gwahh!" Bulma jumped awake, arms flinging in the air and all. Then all at once, cringed when she noticed how sore her back was.

"Ahem." Bulma looked over, and immediately her hoodie was shoved in her face. "Err, thanks?" She mumbled around the fabric.

"You're welcome." Frankie turned away so she could get dressed , and started to tell her what she should use to keep the tat clean and what not.

Forgetting about a bra, Bulma carefully pulled the baggy hoodie over her head, and slowly tugged on her yoga pants. Not that she actually did yoga… _What? They're comfy!_ Somewhere nearby she could still hear Frankie going on about something that was supposedly important. Rolling her eyes she mumbled, "Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. I know what to do."

"You're not wearing a bra, are you? That may rub the ink off. You'll have to wait a few-"

"For the love of all things cute and fluffy, I said don't worry about it!" She quickly walked over to Frankie. Wincing once as her hoodie rubbed her now tender skin, but hid it well. Grabbing his hand, she slapped a few thousand zeni into his palm. She huffed, "Keep the change." Shuffling out of the parlor and into her mother's pathetic excuse for transportation as quickly as possible, she left Frankie standing speechless at the door.

Blasting the radio and completely ignoring all traffic laws, she quickly reached into her huge purse and pulled out a cigar and a lighter. Bulma rarely smoked, but after having a needle dig into her back for 18 hours she felt like she deserved it. After taking a long drag, she glanced up at the sky. _I'll never forget you._

After a second, she furrowed her brow. It's dark?

She rolled her eyes at herself, mumbling, "It's been 18 hours, of course its fucking dark."

Getting home in less than 10 minutes, Bulma dragged herself out of the car, through the maze of random junk in the lawn, all the way to the front door. She barely had time to reach for the door knob before someone from within the house flung it open and yanked her in by her arm.

"Holy shitttt!" Pulling her arm back, Bulma hissed, "What the hell is your problem? I'm half convinced my back is on fire, and you march over here yanking my arm around like it's a Kami damned sport! What is wrong with you?"

"Shut the hell up, Bulma. You won't fucking believe what happened while you were gone." She motioned for her to follow her down the hall, and into the room they shared. Immediately, Bulma noticed the room was stripped except for a few boxes stacked near the far wall.

Bulma's eyebrows shot up beneath her bangs.

"The Child Services people came today." Bulma stared at her little sister with wide hopeful eyes.

"And… What did they say? Are we leaving her? Finally? For good?"

Dana nervously looked at her feet, and started to play with the hem of her shirt. "They were upset that you weren't here. They said that they wanted to meet with you; had some questions but no answers type thing. I-I think they're gonna split us up." She finally looked up, and teary eyes met Bulma's.

She scoffed. "I doubt it. We'll probably all just move in with Uncle John, you know his rich ass can afford all three of us." Turning out of room, and into the kitchen she asked, "Where's that psycho bitch we call a mom?" Grabbing an apple, she took a huge bite.

After shoving a pile of pizza boxes off the only chair nearby, Dana took a seat before looking up at her older sister with a dead serious glare, obviously not convinced that they would be staying together.

Bulma let out an evil chuckle, ignoring her sister's glare, "I bet they tossed her sorry ass in the looney bin." Then without warning she chucked her half-eaten apple at the wall, watching as it fell to the floor in pieces.

Dana snorted, "Well you just hit the nail right on the head."

Bulma about choked. "Please tell me you're serious?"

"Dead serious."

She huffed, "Well, it's about fuckin' time." An awkward silence fell over the room, and both girls zoned out to toss the news they've hoped to hear for so long around in their heads.

"So..." Bulma broke the silence, "When are we leaving this dump?"

Dana cracked a small smirk, "As soon as they find our brother."

Watching a ton of cops drag her crackhead of a brother through the door was enough for Bulma to laugh her ass off. Gasping for breath, she got out, "You're such- a dumbass!"

Rolling his eyes, Tyler ripped his arms out of the cops grip before marching off to his room and slamming the door. Shaking her head, Bulma looked over at the men in uniform about to say something really vulgar but was cut off.

"Missy, it's time for you to collect your belongings. We're here to escort you to your new homes."

Super excited, Bulma and Dana raced to their room, each grabbing one of the two boxes sitting in the corner. When they arrived back at the door, Tyler was already waiting there with his own box.

Without another word, they left the house they grew up in without even a second thought. Hopping into the cop car, Bulma was completely shocked when the door was slammed behind her. Leaving her brother and sister on the other side confused. The cop in the driver's seat chuckled, "Who said you guys are going to the same place?"

Furious, Bulma rammed her box into the wire that separated her from him screaming, "Let me out, motherfucker! Who the fuck are you to tell me who to live with?"

Understanding the situation, her siblings began to fight with the other cop. Tyler sucker punched him while Dana tried to kick him where the sun don't shine. For an eleven year old kid, she could kick like a horse. Not that the cop didn't come prepared, yanking his tazer out he waved it around threateningly.

But it was too late, Bulma's cop was already driving away, and she whipped around to bang on the window trying to get their attention. "I will find you! Don't forget that!" Even though she was screaming in the car, it sounded muffled from where Dana and Tyler were standing. She could see Dana crying hysterically, Tyler was hugging her awkwardly while yelling his face off at the cop. Bulma watched them until she could longer see them, and then she still kept watching. How could something so wonderful turn into something so terrible? Did everything in her life have to be this fucked up? Frustrated, she kicked the driver's seat as hard as she could before scooting down low in her seat. No point bitching about it now; what's done is done. Not taking her eyes off the bottom of the car she asked, "So where are you taking me?"

Pulling into a driveway surrounded by a 10 foot high fence he said, "Right here."

She glanced over at the sign, and then took a double take. "I'M GOING TO FUCKIN' JUVIE?"

"What the fuck did I do to get stuck in this place?" Bulma refused to get out of the car, she was holding the lock down on the car door as the cop on the other side was struggling not to yank his hair out. "I'm innocent!"

The cop threw back his head and laughed long and hard, catching his breath after a moment he pointed his finger at her, "You are anything but innocent, you crazy little shit! You get into more fights at school than any other teenager I've had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting. You smoke cigars, drink like a sailor, steal cars, shoplift, the list goes on and on! Hell, I've met you so many times I'm surprised we aren't on a first name basis!"

Bulma snorted, "That reminds me, how's your wife doing?"

Groaning, the cop dropped his face into his hands, "Fine, I'll make you a deal. They want to keep you in there until you're 18-"

"Oh hell no!"

"BUT! If you get out of this car, and walk into the building with no problems I will try and get you a few months off-"

"Just a few months? What the fuck do you take me for? My ass ain't leavin' this car."

Banging his fists against the window, he yelled, "Fine, a year! A year off!"

Bulma unlocked the door.

Okay, in the back of her head she knew that the cop was lying through his teeth, but she was desperate! That asshole left as soon as she stepped over the threshold, and they didn't waste any time. Almost immediately she was dragged over to some corner to get her picture and finger prints taken. After that she was taken to the showers, and practically forced to strip down in front of a she-man of an officer. After they discovered that she did NOT have any drugs or weapons hidden ANYWHERE an orange uniform was shoved into her chest along with some underwear. Wait... underwear? USED underwear? Bulma glared at the officer and cleared her throat, "Hey, I'm no-"

"You will address me as Ma'am."

She snorted and mumbled under her breath, "Pfft yea, that's not gonna happen..." Throwing the flimsy garment across the aisle she said, "I'm not wearing that. I don't have a problem with the jumpsuit, but I don't even share underwear with my sister let alone some creepos from Creepsville. There's gotta be 15 different types of STDs on that thing!"

Rolling her freakishly large shoulders, "If you refuse to wear the clothing your time here may extend."

Bulma's eyes about popped out of her sockets, "You have got to be kidding me! What is this some form of torture?"

"Everyone has to-"

Bulma started to pull on the suit, "You know what, I don't give a fuck. I'll go commando because I sure as hell ain't putting that thing anywhere near my pussy."

The officer shrugged, "It's your life, not mine."

Rolling her eyes, Bulma zipped up the suit before following the officer out. She was placed in a room filled with about 10 other kids around her age. They were all watching TV silently, but the girls were sitting on one side of the room while the boys were on the other. They looked up when she walked in, and their curious eyes followed her all way to the seat she was given. The officer left her, and went to go talk to the man currently standing guard at the front of the room. As soon as she left, Bulma turned around and immediately started to make conversation with the girl behind her. "So how long are we forced to watch old soap operas?"

"SILENCE!"

The girl smirked and whispered, "What's your name?"

"Bulma"

"I'm Ryder, and we've got about another 30 minutes."

"Are you serious-"

"I SAID SILENCE!" The man marched over where Bulma and Ryder were seated, "One more word out of either of you, and I'll add another 2 months on to your time here."

Ryder clammed up immediately, but Bulma slowly smirked, "You guys sure do like to hang that over our heads."

"Four months!"

"You act as if I care."

"Six months!"

"Can you change the channel-"

Flinging his arm out, he pointed to the opposite side of the room while screaming, "Go sit in the corner!"


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own DBZ.

If Bulma had known that she would be stuck in a fucking solitary cell for 48 hours just because of some shitty TV station, she would have kept her mouth shut and pretended like she enjoyed the show. Staring at the wall for two days is enough to make anyone go crazy, but thankfully she can keep herself pretty entertained. The first thing Bulma noticed when she walked through the door was all the shit written on the walls. Every racist, religious, or perverted thing you could possibly think of someone took the time and effort to write it out for any other poor soul to see.

At first, she was confused. Furrowing her brow she thought, _w__hat the fuck did they use to write this_? All of her personal belongings were taken away from her as soon as she entered the building. None of them were allowed to even wear their shoes in their cells for fuck's sake, so who the hell had the balls to swipe in a marker?

Suddenly it came to her, and she smirked. The buttons.

All of the jumpsuits had a few buttons on them, and apparently they're hard as hell. Ripping one off of her own suit, she was about write something vulgar above a very detailed cock when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

On the other side of the cell, there seemed to be a whole corner of the wall devoted to one artist. It took a minute because the writing looked liked chicken scratches, but eventually she realized she was reading someone's notes.

**25lbs per square inch at 48 degree angle to pop ones testicle**

**25lbs per square inch on carotid arteries causes instant unconsciousness**

**get a syringe, fill it with air, put it in the vein between the toes, authorities think its a heart attack. **

Bulma's eyes just got wider and wider after each new thing she read, but there seemed to be a list a mile long so she saved herself some sanity and cut the reading short. "Okay, someone's a psycho." She mumbled to herself as she walked back to her spot across the room.

All in all, Bulma made it out of alive and sane, but she craved attention from any human being. As soon as the officer came to escort her back to the cafeteria, she jumped at the opportunity to talk. The door was barely opened, but that was all it took for Bulma to slip through.

"HEY! Long time, no see!" She waved in her face with a huge ass grin. The officer grunted, and motioned for her to turn around so she could put the cuffs on.

Bulma did so without a fuss, and was quickly escorted back to where everyone else was eating breakfast. As soon as the cuffs were off, she scurried over to get some food before deciding where she wanted to sit. Like before, there was only about 10 other people in the room, but this time Ryder wasn't there. Her only fucking friend wasn't there. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

At this point, she felt like all hope was lost, so she just planted her ass in the nearest chair. The two boys sitting across from her looked up. One of them glared before looking away, while the other smiled warmly before saying, "Hi."

With a dead-pan look she asked, "We're allowed to talk here, right? Cuz let me tell ya, that solitary cell bullshit was boring as fuck."

He chuckled, "Yea, we're allowed to talk here. It's the only place we're allowed to."

She let out a huge sigh of relief, "Oh thank Kami." She shoved a pile of scrambled eggs into her mouth, "So what the hell did you do to get stuck in here?"

"It's none of your business," growled the shorter of the two.

Bulma snorted and pointed at him with her fork, "Aw, did someone spit in your cereal this morning?"

The taller boy was about to reply, but the short one cut him off, "What the hell was going through your thick skull when you decided to sit your ugly ass down at this table?"

Mouth wide open in shock, Bulma slammed her fork down next to her plate and yelled, "Excuse me, short shit! I didn't know there was a fucking sign here saying only black haired jerks get to sit here!" She jumped up, knocking her chair over in the process, and stormed off while yelling over her shoulder, "And I'm fucking gorgeous!"

Marching off in a huff, but not quite sure where she was going, she started to veer off towards the door hoping no one would notice. Unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky. Someone with a strong grip grabbed her upper arm before dragging her off in the opposite direction.

Whipping her head around, she put on her best death glare, but the officer wasn't exactly getting the reaction she had hoped. So she tried a different approach. Faking a laugh she asked, "You're taking me to get more breakfast, right? Since you're such a kind and generous person."

The officer snorted, "I'm kind and generous enough to take you back to the solo cell, so you'll learn to behave accordingly during meals. How about that? Kind enough for ya?"

Bulma eyes widened, and she fell to her knees making the officer curse, but she proceeded to drag her along the hallway as if nothing was wrong. "Are you fucking serious? That midget should be in that black hole, not me! I'm innocent! I just wanted to eat my fucking breakfast in peace, and maybe gossip a little since I've been without human contact and communication for two fucking days. Is that too much to ask?"

Rolling her eyes she said, "It is if you can't control your temper."

Upon reaching the solo cell, the officer told her to take off her shoes before entering. Then after catching a glimpse of the pitiful look on Bulma's face she sighed before explaining, "Look, the better you behave hopefully the quicker you'll get out of this place, and move on with life. If you keep acting out you'll never leave."

Standing just over the threshold, Bulma swung around, "HOPEFULLY?" The only answer she got was the door slammed in her face.

Grumbling and cursing, she fell face first on the hard mattress trying to ignore her hunger. _Those bastards better fucking feed me a big ass lunch. _Turning her head, she looked around the room for any new notes or art. Granted, she was in the room not two hours ago, so she highly doubted that there was anything new. But after being in the cell long enough to know every dent, crack, and scratch she was desperate to find something new and different.

She sighed before rubbing her face with the back of her hand, what was her brother and sister doing? Were they still together? Were they thinking about her? When will she ever see them again? She thought about the same questions over and over. Which unfortunately made her feel a little homesick. She may have lived in a shitty house, in a shitty neighborhood, with a shitty mother, but at least she had the freedom to do pretty much anything she wanted. Even the stuff she wasn't supposed to do she did anyway, and got away with it for the most part. As sad as it sounds, she'd rather be in school then be stuck in this shithole.

Her eyes trailed over to the wall where all the gruesome notes were. There was a sliver of space left above them, and it was callin' her name. After dragging herself out of bed, she plopped down in front of the wall, and yanked off another button from her suit. _Hm, what to write , what to write..._

Well, she ended up drawing a rather familiar looking midget with black hair that stood straight up as if he had been struck by lightning. She decided he looked better with a frilly dress, lipstick, high heels, and uni-brow. She also decided it would probably be best not to leave her signature. She smirked, _that little pansy will never survive in here anyway._

Just as she was finishing the last touches on her masterpiece, there was a bang on the door, followed by a _shwish_, and her lunch came sliding across the floor from the opening at the bottom of the door. Which was made specifically for tossin' meals to people without even showing your face. Without even turning around, she knew what was on the tray. A juice box, a slice of pizza, and an apple.

Hurrying over to grab the food, she wanted to eat it before it got cold. _ How much longer will they keep me in here? Another 2 days? They can't do that right? _While contemplating about what might happen in the next day or so, she slowly finished her meal. When done, she made her way over to the rock hard bed hoping she'd sleep through most of the time she was locked in there.


End file.
